The Highland Chieftain

by Amy Jarecki

  Closing his eyes, he dipped his chin and covered her mouth with a claiming, devouring kiss. Joined with her in a sensual dance only the pair of them shared and savored. His entire soul ached as he kissed her, craving to possess her. His heart bursting with the enormity of his love for the bonny woman in his arms. He swirled his tongue with Mairi’s as her low sigh curled like a melody around them.

  But his euphoria did not last long.

  The hair on the back of Dunn’s neck pricked as his mind registered shouting. People swiftly moved toward them, a light growing nearer.

  “Mairi?” he whispered.

  “Mm?”

  “I’m unable to stand and fight this eve, but I will not be rebuffed by your father ever again. He has no grounds on which to accuse me and no grounds on which to refuse me. I am a man of property and I can provide you anything you desire. Anything.”

  “I only want you.”

  “Be ready.”

  “Release my daughter at once!” shouted Cromartie, gesturing to the crowd. “You all are witnesses to this debauchery.”

  Pushing Mairi behind him, Dunn wrapped his fingers around his dirk. He would have justice and let the truth speak for itself. “I am Dunn MacRae, chieftain of Clan MacRae, defenders of Clan MacKenzie, which includes this ungrateful clodpoll. I witnessed him, the Earl of Cromartie, hold a dagger to his own daughter’s throat and draw blood. He is a disgrace to our great kingdom. I have asked for Lady Mairi’s hand in marriage and she has accepted my suit. But this pompous flapdragon does not deem me worthy.”

  The crowd gasped while all eyes shifted to the earl.

  “Blast you for your impertinence. I will never allow a mere laird to wed my daughter.”

  “But I love him!” Mairi slipped to Dunn’s side and squared her shoulders. “I want to marry him.”

  Cromartie lunged for her arm. Before the earl reached her, Dunn darted in and grasped the bastard by the throat. “You will never wrongfully imprison me again. Men like you are parasites. You harbor not a care for your daughter’s well-being. You are a fortune seeker of the worst sort. You would sell her to the highest bidder without remorse. I would like to crush you here and now, but I will not. Do you ken why?”

  Gasping for air and shaking, the earl garbled indecipherably.

  “Because you are Lady Mairi’s father and I have sworn to protect you. You are alive because you are under Seaforth’s shield.” He leaned in so his face was a hair’s breadth from the sniveling maggot. “Remember that when you’re in your bed at night. Seaforth is the only reason you have not been reckoned with, for I do not take lightly to someone who incarcerates me for naught.”

  “S-stop!” the earl croaked.

  Dunn shoved the earl away and drew his sword. “I want no bloodshed this night.”

  Behind him Mairi shrieked. “Release me!”

  Dunn spun, dirk and sword ready for a strike. The Earl of Buchan had pulled her into an armlock. Not about to back down, Dunn sauntered forward. “I warn you, m’lord. Release Her Ladyship now and I will not run you through.”

  The man shuffled back, taking Mairi with him.

  Dragoons charged into the courtyard at a run.

  Coughing, Cromartie thrust his finger toward Dunn. “Seize him. An uninvited guest has disrupted the eve’s activities!”

  “I have done nothing of the sort,” Dunn shouted, swinging his sword in an arc as twenty soldiers closed in, muskets at their shoulders.

  “Is that right, mate?” asked a sergeant. “Lower your blade now afore I lodge a musket ball in your skull.”

  “Take him to the Tower!” shouted Cromartie.

  “No!” Mairi shrieked, struggling to free herself. “He has committed no crime.”

  The barrels of two muskets pushed into Dunn’s temples as the sergeant closed in. “You’re walking out of here nice and slow, mate.” He inclined his head to one of his men. “Seize his weapons, Ensign, and bind his wrists.”

  Dunn’s gaze locked with Mairi’s as they marched him away. “Remember the words from my letter.”

  She again struggled, but Buchan still had a firm hold on her.

  Forced into the back of a barred wagon, Dunn seethed. Cromartie had struck him again, and with no grounds.

  After the wagon was under way, a coach stopped them. Dunn craned his neck, but it was too dark to see anything. Words were exchanged with the sergeant—muffled, indiscernible words.

  God’s bones, there he was again, behind bars, but now he had no contingency plan. Blast it all, he should have taken Mairi away from the ball before he wrapped her in his arms. He was smarter than that. Jesus Saint Christopher Christ.

  At a snail’s pace, the wagon ambled along. When the brooding outline of the Tower of London came into sight, he thought for certain they’d stop, but the wagon continued over the Thames. After another few miles passed, Dunn shook the bars. “Where are you taking me?”

  No one replied while the cart creaked and ambled along the cobbled road for another hour, possibly more.

  “This is far enough,” said the sergeant, and the wagon stopped in the middle of nowhere. No lights aside from the single lantern swinging from the driver’s seat. And a grove of trees prevented Dunn from any chance of gaining his bearings.

  One of the soldiers hopped down and opened the cage door. “This is where you get off, mate.”

  “Here?”

  “Aye.”

  Dunn squinted, trusting no one. “You’ve taken my side?”

  “Not at all. I believe you caused a stir at the ball, but the Countess of Seaforth paid us not to incarcerate you.” The sergeant tossed down Dunn’s sword and dirk. “Just ensure you stay away from the Earl of Cromartie, else I’ll have no choice but to lock you away and let the magistrate decide your fate.”

  Dunn picked up his weapons and secured them while the wagon rolled away.

  Audrey must have been in the coach that stopped us. God bless that woman.

  * * *

  Mairi paced the chamber floor, her mind racing. Yet again her father saw fit to lock her within. Moreover, it was midmorning and Aela still hadn’t brought up breakfast.

  Does my father intend to starve me into submission?

  She had been in Dunn’s arms last eve, and she’d lost him again. Where had the dragoons taken him? The Tower? She bit her knuckle and looked toward the window. If only there were a trellis leading up to her third-floor window, she would climb down.

  If ever she needed Reid MacKenzie, it was now. Blast Seaforth for leaving. Again. Must the earl continually disappear when he was most needed? Obviously Mairi meant nothing to him and never had.

  There must be something more I can do. Mairi clasped her hands and paced until something popped into her head. All this time she had been cursing the man, but she might still be able to seek help from Seaforth’s house. How can Lady Audrey help? Surely Her Ladyship had influence at court—though she hadn’t been a countess for long. Her father had been a well-respected businessman, however. Perhaps she knew a number of influential people in London.

  With a loud knock, Da burst through the door, leaving it ajar behind him. “Now you’ve gone and ruined everything!” he shouted, waving a piece of parchment in the air.

  Mairi spread her palms to her sides. “How could I have done anything locked in this chamber without even a crust of bread?”

  He thrust the document into her hands. “Before MacRae showed his face, I was convinced Buchan would make an offer of marriage. But he took one look at MacRae and the spineless weasel is heading for home. Says he’s not ready to wed.” Da shook his fist. “Nine bloody children! The man needs a wife in the most extreme way.”

  Mairi glanced at the missive. “What he needs is a governess, perhaps two.” Not that she would ever be civil to Buchan again after he held her against her will last eve.

  “What would you know about the Earl of Buchan’s needs?”

  Who gives a fig about the earl’s needs at a time like this? Buchan is perfec
tly capable of solving his own affairs.

  About to jump out of her skin, Mairi changed tack. “Please, Father. Must you continue to behave like a villain? Do you want me to hate you for the rest of my days?”

  “Oh, so it is I who is the evil one? I, your sire, the man responsible for your enduring happiness and the longevity of our clan’s line? I say you are being childish.”

  “I vehemently disagree. I know what is in my heart. It is full of love for Mr. MacRae and none other.”

  “I have made my decision, and you will not marry that man.”

  Mairi thrust her fists to her sides. “Why?”

  “Because he’s the hired muscle for that louse my cousin called his son. I do not want you aligned with MacRae or Seaforth.”

  “Though Seaforth was good enough for me for all but a few months in the past one and twenty years. My word, you are a hypocrite. Do you aim to stand against them when it comes time to decide the succession?”

  With a twitch of his head, Da’s eyes narrowed. “What drivel is this? Has MacRae put such thoughts into your head?”

  “No, Father. If you haven’t noticed, I am quite capable of thinking for myself.” She pushed past him. “I am leaving.”

  “I forbid it!” He caught her arm and yanked her back, putting himself between her and the open door.

  “Unhand me!” Jerking her arm toward the weak point of his grip, Mairi freed herself and lunged to the side.

  “I have had enough of your impertinence.” Da drew his dirk, pointing it at her heart. “Until you are wed, I am your lord and master and you will obey me.”

  Trembling with ire, Mairi focused on the knife. “Or you’ll run me through?”

  “Perhaps. Or I will petition the queen to lock MacRae in the Tower and toss the key in the Thames.”

  “For falling in love?” Mairi dared to take a step to the side, planning her next move. “Tell me, where in all of Christendom is that a crime?”

  Da’s eyes shifted. Mairi lunged, grabbed the hilt, and twisted it against his thumb. The weapon popped from his hand. Shifting her gaze to the door, she grasped the dirk with the point downward and sprinted out the door.

  “Mairi MacKenzie! You come back this instant!” Her father’s voice boomed from behind with the clatter of his footsteps.

  But she didn’t stop.

  As she hit the stairs, he yelled again, “You will be left without a dowry!”

  His threat only served to spur her on faster.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Exhausted, Dunn let himself in through the kitchen door at the rear of Seaforth’s town house. A loaf of bread sat on the counter. He broke it, shoving a bite into his mouth, devouring it like he’d been starved for a sennight. It had taken him all night to hike back to London, but he’d made it. As soon as he splashed a bit of water on his face, he aimed to organize Seaforth’s men and break down Cromartie’s door. Christ, if Mairi weren’t within, he would put the earl’s town house to fire and sword and face the consequences.

  While he planned his attack, yearning to face the earl man-to-man, brawn against brawn, a ferocious pounding came at the front door.

  Dunn wiped his mouth, his ears homing in on the butler’s footsteps hastening through the entry. “Lady—”

  “I must see the countess at once!” Good God, he knew that voice. He loved that voice.

  “Mairi!” Dunn bellowed, dropping the bread and bounding toward the entrance hall.

  “Dunn!” Her face brightened with surprise. “You’re here.”

  “Just arrived.”

  She ran into his arms. “My father locked me in my chamber.” Out of breath, she stepped back and waved a dirk through the air. “H-he threatened me with this!”

  “Again?”

  “My stars,” said Lady Seaforth as she hastened down the stairs.

  “Blast it all. I should not have tarried last eve. If I’d hastened to take you away from Whitehall, we would be boarding a transport home.” Dunn gently removed the knife from Mairi’s hand and pulled her into his arms. “I’ll not let him touch you. Ye are safe now, lass.”

  “Not for long,” said the butler from the door. “Cromartie is marching half a dozen men up the road.

  “Quickly, out the back.” Lady Seaforth ushered them through the corridor. “Saddle my gelding for Lady Mairi. I’ll do what I can to stall.”

  Dunn clasped the countess’s hands and hastily kissed them. “I owe you a debt of gratitude, m’lady.”

  She shook her head, smiling warmly. “Oh no, not after everything you’ve done for Reid. Now go!”

  Grasping Mairi’s hand, Dunn raced through the kitchen, gritting his teeth against the needling pain in his heel. He had his woman by his side, and there was no chance he’d let her go. Not this time. Not ever. They dashed out the rear door, across the gardens, and into the stable. “Laddie!” Dunn called to the stable hand. “Rig up Lady Seaforth’s mount. Haste. ’Tis urgent.”

  Dunn found Beastie in his stall chomping at a trough filled with hay. “Sorry to interrupt your meal, big fella, but we must ride.” By the time he tightened the girth on his saddle, the stable hand was helping Mairi to mount.

  “I ken she’s here!” Cromartie’s voice roared from the house.

  “You will not come into my home and make baseless accusations. I do not care if you are the king of creation; I will tolerate no more of your beastliness!” Her Ladyship shouted so loud, the timbers in the stable shook.

  “She has a backbone, Seaforth’s wee lass.” Dunn grinned and looked to Mairi. “Are you ready to ride?”

  “I’ve been ready for days and days.”

  He gave a nod to the lad, who then opened the door to the alley.

  At a canter, Dunn led them over London’s cobblestones toward the Thames, away from Cromartie and his men. Since the earl was on foot, they had a good head start—one Dunn intended to put to his advantage.

  Forced to slow to a walk as they approached the congestion on London Bridge, Mairi rode in beside him. “Where are we going? The bridge will take us south.”

  “That’s the last thing your father will expect, am I right?”

  “True, but Scotland is north.”

  “Aye, but the Chatham dockyard is southeast. I reckon we’ll find a transport to Glasgow there and then another to Loch Alsh.”

  “We’re sailing to Eilean Donan?”

  “Taking a roundabout route, but aye, I reckon we’ll be sitting before home’s hearth in a fortnight, perhaps a wee bit more.” Together, they rode down the tunnel of shops and houses built along the bridge while merchants bid them to stop and sample their wares. London Bridge was like a city within the city, and it stank of piss and rot.

  Halfway, Dunn glanced behind at the swarm of activity. Thank God there wasn’t a redcoat in sight. Cromartie was thrown off the scent. For now. If, in all his years serving Seaforth, Dunn had learned nothing else, it was to never underestimate the cunning of his enemy. Heaven help him, he wanted to stop in the middle of the bridge, pull Mairi into his arms, and declare his undying love. He wanted to find the nearest priest and make her his wife. But stopping now was too great a risk.

  * * *

  Dunn figured they’d been riding for nearly five hours when Mairi teetered and wiped her hand across her eyes.

  “Are you unwell?” he asked.

  “I’m hungry. Da did not allow me to break my fast.”

  The lout. “Unforgivable.” His jaw twitched as he clamped his fingers tighter around his reins. Bloody hell, Cromartie would never cease to be an arse? “The signpost said Dartford is a mile on. We ought to be able to find an inn or an alehouse there.”

  “Are you upset?” Mairi asked.

  “Angry with myself. I’d hoped your father would see reason, but now I realize that will never happen. I once asked for your hand like a gentleman, and he convinced you to refuse me. He has made his position clear. Forgive me, Mairi, but there is no longer a chance for me to settle things with your Da amica
bly. There’s no chance of gaining his blessing.”

  “There is nothing to forgive. My father has also lost a daughter. I never want to see him again.”

  “Such a travesty for any man to place wealth ahead of clan and kin.”

  “I do not understand it. I remember when Da received his earldom. I was but thirteen years of age. Before, he was the Viscount of Tarbat, clearly below and beholden to Seaforth. Now that he is on equal footing and the marriage agreement has been rescinded, it is as if he has adopted a maniacal desire to further his lot. Is it not enough to be an earl? Is it not enough to be the lord of estates so vast, one cannot ride across them in one day’s time?”

  “I cannot say. Though I have never envied Seaforth for his exalted rank. It seems as a clan chief, I have everything he has without the pomp. The queen hardly kens I exist, and I prefer it that way.”

  “I think I do as well. Did you see the courtiers last eve, strutting in their finery, each one trying to outdo the other?”

  “Unfortunately, court has always been about impressing, posturing, and outdoing.”

  “Funny, but I think my father was happier in those early days afore he ascended to his earldom.”

  “Now that, I believe.” Dunn pointed to a stone building with a shingle out front. “There’s an alehouse ahead and a stable beside it. The horses can enjoy a bit of hay while we eat.”

  “Do you think Da will come this way?”

  “I doesn’t matter what I think. I learned ages ago, it is best not to guess what any man will do. When you’re running, there are but two rules: Do nothing to draw attention to yourself, and suspect everyone.”

  “Have you been on the run a great deal?”

  “In these perilous times, if a man stands up for something he feels strongly about, sooner or later he’ll end up on the wrong side of right. And then he’ll have no choice but to head for the Highlands and wait.”